Even a bad plan is better than a good excuse.
Rolo sat on the bed, leaning against the backrest, absently rolling a marble between his fingers. The smooth surface did nothing to settle his thoughts. With a frustrated sigh, he shoved it into his pocket and pushed himself up, deciding he'd wasted enough time. He hadn't found a solution—hadn't even come close—but he knew exactly who he needed to see to get one.
Just as he reached for the door, it swung open before he could touch the handle.
"We're having a meeting," said Mose with a slight smile, "Care to join us?"
Rolo was stunned. He raised his eyebrows questioningly as he looked at the vampire girl.
"I'm a friend of Shay," the boy replied, "If I had to classify myself, I'd say I'm a mage. Pleased to meet you."
"A mage?" Rolo was shocked. "That's impossible."
"Well, to be precise, an unmagical mage," corrected Moses, and Rolo burst out laughing.
"Believe me, I know more about magic than you think," Mose said in a calm voice.
Rolo looked him over again. A smile played on his lips, but his eyes... his eyes were mysterious.
"Hm, we'll see," the kitten murmured.
They headed to Alex's room, where Des sat with his arms crossed, radiating irritation. Alice was beside him, subtly attempting to soothe him—though with little success.
"So, what's the plan?" asked Des skeptically.
Everyone turned to Rolo.
"Hm," the boy murmured, deep in thought. "First, we gather information. Everyone should reach out to their own contacts—we need to learn everything we can about Acheron and its weaknesses." His gaze flicked to Mose. "In the meantime, you should also set up a hideout."
With that, Rolo turned on his heel and walked out without a word of farewell—he'd already wasted too much time.
Des watched him go, scowling. "That kid," he muttered darkly, "pisses me off."
"You're not alone in that," Alex said with a sigh, entirely unaware that, for the first and likely last time in his life, he was in complete agreement with the mad hunter.
Des stood up.
"I'll be back," he said as he left, followed by Alice.
"I'll ask around," Coffee said and started to leave, but she took one last look at the wolf. Finally, she stepped out of the door.
"Are you going home?" asked Mose.
"Hm?" the wolf looked up at him, "Well, I was planning to visit the Goblin first, why?"
"I thought your house would be perfect for a hideout," Moses said, "I'd start securing it."
"Okay," agreed Alex, "Then let's go home first."
Moses nodded.
(...)
Ruben stared at the paper thrown on the edge of his desk with a scorching gaze as if hoping that his annoyed look would set it alight. Well, that didn't happen, even after a week of active staring. He nervously recalled when, a week ago, the rat returned with a message.
[He'll be visiting soon, get ready.—Shaytan]
The mere thought of it was enough to make Ruben shudder. Anyone watching him closely might have noticed the way his fingers twitched, his posture just a little too rigid.
I remembered the day we first met. The moment our eyes locked, I could see it in him—the realization that escape was impossible. He knew. I could see it in the way his posture stiffened, the way his breath quickened. There would be no escape for him. Not from me.
It wasn't just that I was stronger. He's faced monsters stronger than him before, had come out on top in battles that most wouldn't have survived. But strength means little without wit, and I have wit in abundance. I enjoy the way they think they can outsmart me. It's cute.
I sent him a message. Nothing much—just a little cryptic phrase, just enough to get under his skin. I imagine he's still turning it over in his head, wondering if it means something more, trying to figure out what it all really means.
And as I had predicted, he finally came to him. The cat transformed back into his human form in the corner of the room. He dressed swiftly, but didn't bother with shoes. His footsteps were slow and deliberate as he approached Ruben, stopping just a meter away from him.
Ruben grunted in acknowledgment. "I expected a little more than this," he said with a hint of disdain, "A kitten, really?"
Rolo suddenly couldn't decide whether to giggle, attack, or simply sulk.
"I'm not afraid of you," the rat declared.
"Maybe you should be," Rolo said in a light, yet ominous tone, "It's in nature for cats to devour squeaky little mice like you."
Ruben laughed. "Unless rats eat the cat first!"
At Ruben's threat, a multitude of tiny, glowing eyes suddenly appeared in the darkness, revealing the horde of rats lurking in the shadows. For some inexplicable reason, Ruben chose not to act on his threat, instead focusing his attention elsewhere.
"I'll make sure you regret coming here later," Ruben said as he turned back to his computer.
Rolo shook his head in amusement. "These threats of yours… If you're not careful, you might actually scare me a little."
"Shut up and come closer," Ruben said, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he worked intently on his computer.
Rolo approached Ruben's chair and watched as the glowing eyes danced across the massive monitors, their reflection flickering across the screens.
"Impressive," Rolo remarked, though his eyes widened as the monitor suddenly turned blue after the rat pressed 'Enter'.
The screen was filled with a chaotic blur of letters and numbers flashing so rapidly that even Rolo struggled to make sense of it. Ruben's sly smile only grew wider. He was acutely aware that no one else could decipher or sequence the information racing across the screen—except, of course, for him. Ruben admired the cat's skill, though he didn't think the time had come for him to be a worthy rival.
"You need information on the Acheron," Ruben said. "Everything, eh?"
"Exactly," the kid nodded.
Ruben must have thought that if Rolo were anything other than a cat, he might have been more likable. But cats were always cocky—like it's in their nature.
"The prison building is divided into four sections," Ruben began, "The first section is for fae only, the second is for shifters and vampires, the third is for mages... and the fourth is for the most dangerous criminals." He paused, letting the gravity of the information sink in. "It's impossible to enter the building without permission, and even harder to get out. The protective spells were created by Ágota Rosenstein herself—one of the strongest defenses."
"Is there no loophole?" Rolo asked.
Ruben fell silent as Rolo repeated the question, his curiosity palpable.
"My rats can get in," Ruben finally admitted. "But they can't bring anyone in or out. They can't even deliver a message."
Ruben sighed heavily. "Your only chance of escape would be the stadium, but even that seems impossible. The spells there are so formidable that no monster, no matter how strong, can breach them."
"Could you copy all your information for me?" Rolo pressed, "Maybe I can find something useful if I go over it repeatedly."
"I'll leave that to you," Ruben said, resigned, and handed Rolo a pendrive already loaded with files.
The boy's eyes narrowed.
"You knew I was coming," Rolo said with suspicion. "And not just from your rats."
Another deep sigh escaped Ruben. "You think I'd have helped you? Don't make me laugh."
"Did he send you a message?" Rolo asked eagerly, "When?"
Ruben pointed to a crumpled ball of paper on the edge of his desk. Rolo snatched it up and read it quickly.
"When did he send this?" he demanded.
"The day before his capture," Ruben replied wearily.
Rolo's face twisted in confusion and anger. "He knew I would come to you," he whispered, grappling with the realization.
Ruben's eyes glinted with a dangerous light. "You shouldn't be so surprised, kid. You've known for a while that the demon is exceptional. People like us don't usually follow those below us—but sometimes, not even those above us."
"What do you mean?" Rolo asked, his voice edged with frustration. "I understand, but—"
"When I encountered that beast, I realized something crucial," Ruben interrupted. "The bastard has a truly irritating ability. He makes cunning plans, and once he understands you, he can predict your every move. That's what makes him so dangerous."
Ruben leaned forward, pressing his index finger to his temple as he glanced up at Rolo. "As if he could read your mind."
"I thought you hated him," Rolo said, "Why are you helping him?"
Ruben's laughter was cold and unsettling. "It's quite simple," he said, a dangerous light flashing in his eyes. "I wonder what he's planning. Will he succeed? But most of all, I wonder what he's set into motion."
Rolo understood. He understood fully what the other meant.
(...)
Meanwhile, Alex arrived at the entrance to the Goblin. The bell above the door rang softly as he pushed it open and stepped inside. Zénó looked up from behind the counter, his expression betraying a trace of expectancy. A black coffee sat waiting for him in a porcelain cup, a silent acknowledgment of Alex's arrival.
"Good evening," Alex said, his voice steady. Zénó greeted him with a small, knowing smile.
Alex's gaze roamed the room, assessing the old man behind the counter.
"I suppose I don't need to explain why I'm here," Alex said, his voice carrying a hint of coldness that wasn't there before.
"Indeed, I've been informed," Zénó replied, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation.
Alex took a seat, nodding his thanks to Zénó for the coffee.
"So, you'll help me?" Alex asked, his tone edged with impatience.
Zénó's eyes grew serious. "I must warn you, there's a significant risk of provoking a full-scale war between the monsters and the hunters."
"Zénó," Alex said, his voice chillingly cold, "The hunters have already started this war. We will finish it."
The bartender's eyes widened at the intensity of Alex's anger. At that moment, Zénó realized the Crosspherat had made a grave mistake. They had incited the wrath of a formidable pack of monsters.
"You must understand, Alex," Zénó said calmly, trying to defuse the situation, "We cannot jeopardize this fragile peace for the sake of one monster."
Alex rose to his feet. "Whatever you decide, we're going after him."
"Kid," Zénó hissed, his voice taking on a dangerous edge that had not been heard in years. His golden eyes, with their vertical pupils, narrowed into a predatory glare.
Alex met his gaze steadily, seemingly unaffected by the change in the room's atmosphere. Yet, Zénó's presence was overwhelmingly imposing. The aura of menace that enveloped Zénó felt like a suffocating weight on Alex's shoulders. Even the act of breathing became laborious under the oppressive atmosphere. It was clear why every shifter except the cats had once fallen under this old fox's control.
Simultaneously, Alex unleashed the fury he had been nursing for the past week. The air in the room seemed to heat up with the intensity of his rage. Zénó, though resolute, felt the pressure of Alex's anger and fought to maintain his composure.
The wolf's dominance was undeniable.
"I suggest you remember, Zénó," Alex said in a low, ominous tone, "Even if I'm not the leader of our famiglia, I am an alpha."
"Thank you for the coffee," he added curtly, leaving the cup untouched as he turned to leave.
As Alex stepped out, I couldn't help but notice the way Zénó's hand trembled just slightly against the glass he was polishing. The weight of the situation was settling in, and for the first time, I realized how much he had underestimated things. He'd always known about the famiglia's power, but it was clear now that he'd never fully understood the depth of it.
I'd always known the strength of my own alliances—there were the other alphas: Alex and Rolo, both forces to be reckoned with in their own right. And Des, too, who may not have been a direct member but would tear through anyone who threatened me. But Zénó hadn't even factored in Coffee. Her bloodline was a quiet power in the background, something he didn't see coming.
For too long, Zénó had thought that my power came from my alliances with Titania and the Sorcerer Lord, that they were my greatest strength. He couldn't have been more wrong. No, it wasn't the alliances themselves—it was the family I had forged.
I could see Zénó's hands moving mechanically, still polishing that glass as if he were trying to focus on something, anything, other than the truth he was coming to accept. He'd always thought I was the most dangerous of them all. He had forgotten something important—that without me, the others were free to act, unchained. Without my leadership, they could become even more dangerous. A beastmaster's control over his creatures was fragile at best.
I could feel his mind racing, turning over the two alphas. He hadn't seen the potential, the danger in them. How could he have missed it? And now, the question remained: what would happen if they ever decided to join forces? But the question that lingered above all others—who would rise to lead in my place?
I knew that Zénó was starting to understand something fundamental: after this, nothing would ever be the same. As he was contemplating this he was unaware of the unearthly presence leaving his bar.